


Mélodie for Piano Solo

by LiterallyAViking



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone is friends and that is gr8, Finnish Semi, Gen, Moniwas there and that p cool, Pianist Semi, like two ocs who serve next to no purpose, ok, unnecessary drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyAViking/pseuds/LiterallyAViking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With another breath of air, Semi began his trek back towards his house, tapping a melody into the air in front of him as he tried to clear his mind yet again, to allow his only thoughts to be music.</p>
<p>Or, where Semi plays the piano and this fact causes unnecessary drama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mélodie for Piano Solo

Semi walked slowly onto the large stage, his breathing steady but his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The eyes of everyone out in the crowd were glued on him as he made his way to the piano situated in the center of the stage, its black finish gleaming under the heavy lights that lit up the entire auditorium. His fingers twitched by his side, enforcing in his mind the part that he had gotten wrong time and time again. He swallowed down whatever bits of anxiety he still had on him before adjusting the sleeves of his suit and turning to face the crowd, face impassive save for a polite smile that he swears his teacher had him spend more time practicing than the music itself.

"My name is Semi Eita," he introduced himself to the crowd, his voice loud enough to be heard by the judges that gathered a few rows from the front, "I will be playing Three Intermezzi for Piano Opus 117 by Johannes Brahms, thank you." Semi gave a short bow to the silent audience before turning to the piano and sliding onto the bench that was sat in front of it. He waited a moment more as the judges scratched down his information, resting his hands in his lap until he heard a soft 'go ahead' from one of the judges. 

He brought his hands up to the keys, poising his fingers gently above the notes that started the song. Right hand pointer finger ready on a b-flat with his thumb and fifth finger resting on a low and high e-flat respectively. Left hand fifth finger on the e-flat a ledger line below the staff while his thumb and third finger stood ready to launch themselves up to a high e-flat and g. With a deep breath in and out, Semi brought his fingers down to the keys, repeating the time signature and tempo in his head as he began. Six-eight time at speed andante moderato. Piano dolce. Soft and sweetly.

He bit his tongue in anticipation as the key signature turned from e-flat to g-flat, adding three more flats to the music. Più Adagio, pianissimo. Each small twitch and change in rhythm or volume lodged in his head from playing the passages too many times to count, again and again until he was able to play the song with his eyes closed. Another key change, this time back to e-flat and with the pedal down as well. He quickly found it with his foot and continued the song, taking care not to mess up the complicated mixture of sixteenth notes and octaves as he had the first time he had sightread the piece. 

As he finished the first Intermezzo, he paused for a moment before diving into the second movement. The key of b-flat minor and in three-eight time, the song began with a flurry of thirty-second notes, at least that was what it was to him. In reality it began softly and sweetly and continued in the same way throughout the piece. But with his mind still rushing through the piece each note seemed ten times faster than how he played it.

Semi sucked in another sharp breath of air as he moved into the third movement. C-sharp minor and in two-four time, this was probably his favorite part of the song, despite the fact that it was the part he had messed up the most, playing false sharps or flats that weren't there. All together the three movements were only about eighteen minutes long, but it felt as if next to no time had passed from the first movement to the third. Had he been rushing? Perhaps.

With a harsh sigh that barely escaped through clenched teeth, Semi finished the song seamlessly, left hand playing g-sharp, e, and c-sharp in unison while his right hand held onto c-sharp on middle c, e, g-sharp, and high c-sharp. He held the notes out for what was probably an extra beat longer than what the fermata permitted before lifting his fingers off the keys and allowing a space for breath before pushing the bench out from its position and standing once again to face the audience.

They were quick to break out into applause and Semi could feel a smile of relief bloom on his face as he bowed to the auditorium once again, holding it out for two seconds as he focused on his feet before straightening out and exiting the stage at the same steady pace he had entered onto it. The next player stood off to the side of the stage, wringing their sleeves nervously as Semi passed by them.

"Good job," his teacher said stoically as he approached her, all of the other contestants of the competition sitting on the benches that were provided for them. Semi watched as they too hurriedly tapped out their pieces on whatever available surface that they could find. Some played against the walls while others allowed their fingers to flow against their thighs. The competition was nearly over, but for all of them their piece had become something of a comfort in times of stress, and right now was certainly a very stressful time. "We'll have to go over the bits that you messed up again, however."

Semi felt his gut twist at his teacher's words but sent the woman a terse smile nonetheless. Of course he had messed up. He always seemed to mess up one way or another. "Of course," he confirmed with his teacher. "Of course." the second time was quieter, more of a breath than an actual phrase. He bowed respectfully to his teacher before scurrying out from backstage to stand in the entrance hall.

He let out a sigh of relief as soon as he was away from the crowd, instead leaning against the main door leading to the auditorium, straining his ears to hear the music being played by the nervous contestant that Semi had exited to. Mozart, Semi recognized. Piano Sonata Number 12 in F, K. 332. He could feel his fingers tap against his thighs as he listened in on the tune, quickly catching where the player was at and playing along with them. His face twisted as the player missed a flat, and then another as they headed into the next movement of the piece. The player must have noticed as well seeing as they faltered on the quick sixteenth notes in the left hand.

It seemed to go downhill from there, as the player continued to miss obvious flats or completely botch important accidentals the composer had put in the music. They shortened trills down to one quick succession rather than two and slowed their sixty-fourth notes down to thirty-second notes. Semi's face screwed up as they took out a turn and clumsily replaced it with a trill. His fingers came to a stand still against his thighs, instead opting for listening to the music as if he were someone in the audience rather than picking apart the music as if he were one of the judges.

Eighteen minutes never felt longer in his life, Semi decided as the piece ended on two octave f's in the left hand and a tie from g and b-flat down to f and a in the right hand. The auditorium lit up with applause and Semi could picture the player standing up from the bench and bowing his way off of the stage. 

"Thank you all for coming out," a velvety voice from inside the auditorium made him jump, amplified as it was from a microphone, "These students have been working on their pieces for many months now, and they all appreciate you being here to listen to their work. The results for who will be invited back here to perform a new piece in one month's time will be posted shortly. To all students, thank you for working so hard and we hope to see you all next year. Please continue to play and enjoy the piano." 

Another round of applause burst from the auditorium and Semi could imagine the man bowing himself off of the stage with a silvery smile on his face. Semi quickly backed away from the doors as the audience began to file out of the auditorium, plastering the same polite smile he had used at the beginning of his performance on his face.

"Semi," his teacher called out as she marched towards him from the door that led backstage. He turned his head to face her, the smile melting away to the reveal the same expressionless face he usually wore around her. She finally spoke once she was stood right in front of him, the heels she wore only giving her a few centimeters on his height. "The judges will be posting the results soon. Please feel free to mingle in the entrance hall until then. We'll discuss your piece in our next lesson."

Semi nodded and watched as his teacher once again marched off, likely going to speak with other teachers who had students performing. With that he too turned about and blended himself into the crowd that had gathered in the entrance hall, smiling politely at those who looked his way and making small conversation when it was required of him. His fingers twitched at his side once again, but this time it wasn't to tap out some nameless tune he had learned years ago, but rather they were aching. He was missing practice for this. While it had been nice to miss half of the school day in order to do something he loved and was actually passionate about—as compared to math class, that is—it was another thing entirely to be missing volleyball practice. Even if he wasn't a regular.

"If I may I have your attention," the same velvety voice from inside of the auditorium spoke up, not as loud and much more sing-songy than it had been in through the microphone. The heads of all of the players snapped up to turn their attention to the man who stood eagerly by a large bulletin board with a small sheet of paper clutched in his hands. "I'm sorry that it took so long, but the judges have finally finished judging. Each of these pieces of paper have already been handed out to your teachers, so students can check with them if they'd rather. Those who make it through to the next…round, per se, will meet back here in about a month's time. More information will be given to you by your teachers. Once again, thank you all for taking time out of your day to support the arts."

With another sugar sweet smile, the man turned to tack up the short list on the board before giving a small bow to the crowd and excusing himself back into the auditorium. Even as the students looked on at the piece of paper with intent, they all seemed to want to uphold their sense of decorum and instead easily meandered over to the board, their faces only showing mild interest even as their eyes either lit up or dimmed as they saw the results.

Semi slowly followed behind the crowd, trying to peek over the heads of the people gathered around the bulletin board. Once the crowd gathered around the paper had dispersed, Semi was finally allowed to see the results. Scanning through the list he spotted his name and nodded to himself before turning away from the sheet and making his way out of the hall, ignoring the smile that he could feel spreading on his face. You're not done yet, he reminded himself, don't get too cocky.

\---

"Where were you yesterday?" Tendou asked as he drew up a seat on the other side of Semi's desk, propping himself up on his elbow as the class slowly filled with students just arriving from their homes rather than the two of them who had been at school since the beginning of morning practice. "You left after lunch and weren't at practice. Did ya' die or something?" 

Semi rolled his eyes at his friend's joking tone. He deserved it, after all. "I had an appointment, nothing to worry about," Semi lied easily, shoving at Tendou's elbow so as to clear off his desk.

"You keep having these appointments, man," Tendou whined, but seemed to honor Semi's wishes seeing as he removed his elbow from where it had sat, instead placing it on his knee and setting his face in his hands to pout at Semi. "Are you okay? You aren't seriously dying or some other serious shit like that, right?"

"I'm fine Satori," he sighed. In all honesty he felt more than fine, elated even. Whenever he so much as thought of yesterday it was enough to cause an excited knot to bubble up in his stomach. Still, he turned to face his friend with a frown on his lips. "And the last time I had an appointment was three months ago, thank you very much." 

"Okay, okay," Satori surrendered, holding his hands up by his head as he did so. "At least tell us at morning practice when you won't be by for afternoon practice. You're the babysitter to all of us, without you it's just like…" Tendou seemed to struggle to find the word for a moment before blowing a raspberry and flinging his fingers out in the sign of some sort of explosion. 

Semi snorted, reaching over to push at his friends' shoulder. A smile quickly found its way onto his lips, however. "Why do that when I can simply count on you to tell the team why I'm gone?" he teased, eyes flickering up to the clock located at the front of the classroom. "Now get to your seat, sensei's going to kill you if you're not there for morning role call again."

"Why do that when I can simply count on you to tell sensei that I am, in fact, present." he mocked, using the same tone of voice Semi had used just moments before. Tendou snickered as Semi once again shoved his friend away, pushing him off of his desk and towards his own. 

Semi let a soft smile fly onto his lips nonetheless as his friend found his own seat, turning around to shamelessly flirt with the girl seated behind him. The boy's fingers quickly found the desk as the rest of the class made their way into their seat's, tapping out a short song he had learned years ago. Repeat the section, go on, repeat the section, go on, repeat the section, go on, repeat the section, go back to the beginning, repeat the section, go on, repeat the section, end. Perhaps not the shortest song that he had ever had the pleasure to learn, but as compared to what he was playing these days, the tune felt like the shortest thing in the world.

Still, as he continued to tap away at his desk, it seemed five times longer than what he played yesterday.

\---

"Semi," Shirabu addressed him during practice as the team finished up their cool-down stretches for the day. Even as his face twisted up at the other's impolite tone, he nodded for the younger to continue. "Do you have the book that you said I could borrow?"

Semi turned about to look at his underclassman, taking in his unamused expression as well as his—quite frankly—bored looking stance. He remembered the book. It was something that Tendou had given to him as a gift last year, or at least that's what the other had claimed it was. Semi knew perfectly well that Tendou's cousin had gone off to university, dumping all of his old books and novels on Tendou, even though the other boy could care less for any of the classics that his cousin collected, instead preferring old sci-fi books that had yet to be translated to Japanese. Somehow the boy still made due.

"Sure," he answered as politely as he could before stretching himself out between his legs once again, "It's in my bag, just over on the bench. Be careful, though. It's the Russian edition, but I have a few notes in the margin for a few words. There's also a dictionary in my bag if you need one."

"Why would I need a dictionary?" Shirabu sneered out even as he made his way over towards where Semi had said his bag was. 

"It's Russian to Japanese," Semi answered smoothly, snickering as he heard Shirabu's soft 'oh' echo from him at the older's response. Having been brought up in Finland for the first ten years of his life, Russian was something of a second language to him. Still, by the time he had arrived in Japan, he only had the vocabulary of a ten year old, meaning that more complicated words were completely lost on him without the helpful translating dictionary he had received a few years ago—also from Tendou, ironically enough, although it had been more of a gag gift than anything.

Semi sighed once again as he curved his body to one side and then the next, his hands held out above his head but his fingers still playing in the sky, looking as if he were simply wiggling them about. He had lessons later tonight, he reminded himself yet again. That meant the beginning of a new song he would have to have memorized within the next month. It would likely be one of the few candidates that his teacher had produced months ago for him to play for this previous competition. Still, Semi had brought along a few pieces that he had collected earlier that month while at the local music shop, browsing for a new folder to hold all of the tunes he had collected. He sadly hadn't found one.

"Semi," Shirabu's voice rang out through the gym, a hint of curiosity in it. Semi turned to face the younger in mild interest before freezing at the sight of what he held in his hands. Tucked beneath one arm were the two books he had originally meant to borrow, but in the other was a cluster of white sheets, dotted with skillful rhythms as well as his own small suggestions to himself written out in the margin or above certain phrases and measures. Shit. "Are these yours?"

The attention of everyone in the gym was easily caught at the younger setter's question. Even with the books set under his arms, the boy was still able to leaf through the sheet music, taking in the messy rhythms paired with headache-inducing key signatures. His eyes widened as he continued to skim through the music, gaping slightly as he did. 

"No, no," Semi quickly denied, stumbling up on to his feet to walk over to where Shirabu stood, walking at a brisk pace rather than the run he so desperately wanted to break out into, especially as more of the team gathered around the younger setter to peer down at the sheet music as well. God, he felt as if his mother had just found his porn stash only find out it was all extremely gay. Well, perhaps not that bad, but it felt pretty bad. This wasn't exactly something that he wanted nor needed his team to know about, especially with how focused they all were on volleyball. As irrational as it likely was, he felt as if the fact that he was focused on something other than volleyball just as much as—perhaps even more than—he was focused on the sport at hand would be enough to cause the team to think of him as a liability. It was stupid, but he still thought it. "No, I just found those in the classroom earlier and I was going to return them to the teacher tomorrow."

"Really?" Tendou asked, snatching the music from Shirabu's hands and quickly flipping through it himself. "Because all of these notes and junk look like they're in your handwriting."

"Give me that." Semi snapped as he reached where his team stood, all hovering around his music with a mix of amusement and amazement on their faces. Of course, Semi could only see the amusement, immediately overcome with a sense of oh god, they're going to laugh at me for playing the piano, they all must think it's such a girly instrument, why the hell did I have to pick the piano. 

"Just let me look through them," Tendou teased as he continued to leaf through the music, his fingers tracing each note as if tickling them, not noticing the obvious distress building up on Semi's face. 

"Don't touch that," he hissed once again, finally catching the music and yanking it from his friend's hands, too angry—too scared—to notice the few pages of paper that fluttered away from his grasp and onto the ground. "Don't just go picking through my shit. What the actual fuck." he stormed through his crowd of teammates, going as far as to shove a few out of the way so as to reach his bag. "Fuck this, I've got to go."

Displeasure fully apparent, Semi marched out of the gym in a hurry, not even bothering to change back into his uniform before leaving—he had an extra at home—and leaving his team behind with a few stray pieces of music to wonder what the hell had just happened and what they had done that was so wrong. 

What could he say? Semi loved to overreact.

\---

Semi sat on the small bench placed before the piano, his hands tucked respectfully in his lap as he listened to his teacher speak. His lessons had finished almost too quickly with his head still swimming with what had happened at practice. He had overreacted, he knew that much, but he had been petrified. Even if they didn't hate him for his work with the piano, they probably would thanks to his completely unnecessary outburst.

"For the next round of the competition," his teacher's voice cut through his train of thought, and he quickly redirected his attention onto the woman at hand. "Students have been directed to play a piece of their choice, Beethoven's Sonata Number Thirty in your case, as well as a chosen piece by the judges. This year they chose Waldscenen Opus eighty-two by Schumann. I can't remember if they wanted all nine movements or not, but at the level that you're playing I feel that they will."

Semi nodded at this, clearing his mind of all the events of earlier today to instead access his memory of Schumann's Waldscenen. He had played all but two of the movements earlier this year and would likely have the music for all nine movements stashed away somewhere near his piano. "When is the competition?" he asked his teacher, ignoring her sharp glare of the unsaid 'I was getting there' that she shot him.

Sighing, she peered over at the sheet of paper that she was given at the end of the first round of the competition. "The first Friday of next month. The judges have you second from last again, and you'll likely have to miss a full day of school, your volleyball practice included." her disdain was obvious.

Semi nodded solemnly at this, biting his lip as he pulled out his phone to set the date into his calendar. He paled as he poked about his calendar for any set dates around that time. "We have a game that day, ma'am." he addressed his teacher, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he did, pointedly ignoring the texts and call notifications that were flooding it as well.

"You'll have to miss it," she snarked, gathering Semi's music and passing it over to him, "I don't see why you're so wound up about it, anyways. You're not a starter after all."

Semi winced slightly at his teacher's comment, but was since used to her purposefully hurtful snark. He had thought of investing in a new teacher many times, but his current teacher taught him at a tempo quick enough to always keep him on his toes as well as always learning new things. Even if she liked to take bites at his private life, she also made Semi confident in his skills as a pianist. Still, he took the sheet music from her hands, quickly stuffing it into his bag before bowing his way out of her house, only stopping long enough to slip his shoes onto his feet as he made his way on to the streets. He let out a breath of air he hadn't known he had been holding as soon as he reached the sidewalk. He slowed to a stop, allowing himself to relax in the evening air.

With another breath of air, Semi began his trek back towards his house, tapping a melody into the air in front of him as he tried to clear his mind yet again, to allow his only thoughts to be music.

\---

"Your friend Satori stopped by while you were in lessons," Semi's cousin spoke from across the dinner table as the two of them slowly ate yet another microwavable dinner his cousin had picked up from the convenience store down the street earlier that night.

Semi hummed to show that he had heard what his cousin had said, his eyes focused on the sheets of music spread out in front of him. His left hand skillfully fingered through the music while his right slowly brought food up to his mouth. His cousin slapped at his hand every once and a while when it drew too close to him or his food.

"I told him that you were out, but he looked worried," his cousin prompted, perhaps waiting for Semi to tell him what had happened. When he was met with nothing from Semi but the tap-tap-tapping of his fingers against the table he rolled his eyes. "Did something happen between you two? Or perhaps you and the team, because not twenty minutes after Satori left, that one kid from your team that you don't like showed up asking for you, too."

Semi pursed his lips at this, his fingers stilling for a moment before picking up the pace once again. "Nothing that you need to worry about," he replied curtly, ignoring the twitch he could feel in his hands as the two were mentioned to him. 

"Alright," his cousin said slowly, "Just tell me if you need anything." 

Semi nodded but said nothing else as the dinner table was submerged in silence yet again, the only sound was the rhythmic tapping as Semi fingered the same phrase for the fifth time.

\---

For the first time in nearly three years, Semi Eita skipped morning practice. Instead of the gym that he had found himself in every morning for nearly three years, Semi was in the school's spacey music room, his hand running almost lovingly over the sleek black finish of the grand piano the school owned. It was something of a religious experience as compared to Semi's own dinky piano he had at home. It always was an experience every time he was allowed to play on a professional piano.

He hesitantly sat himself down on the bench, feeling as if he were doing something illegal—skipping practice, playing such a high level piano unsupervised, both—as he glanced towards the door once again. His fingers floated above the keys of the piano for half a second more before slowly coming down as he drilled out a few easy exercises he still practiced on a daily basis. He ran through his scales a few times, playing through both major and minor before testing out the pedal of the piano with a piece quick enough to be finished in a time shorter than it took him to warm up.

With another glance towards the door, Semi slowly brought his pieces out from in his bag. He frowned as the sheets stood jumbled together. He had to get a folder for his music soon; peeling away sheet after sheet from where they sat on the piano stand only to be flung out onto the floor was too much. Not to mention it made a mess that Semi, quite frankly, didn't enjoy cleaning up. Still, he began his practice nonetheless, his music stacked in its usual fashion as he ran through the first movement of Waldscenen, his nose wrinkling up as he peered at the German written out in front of him. Of course he had to have the German edition of the piece. The only German he knew was how to count to five and how to say that he liked to watch television. He didn't even own a television.

He quickly powered through the first movement, the dynamics of the piece were anything but impressive as Semi focused more on the notes and rhythm. That was how the rest of the piece progressed, save for the times were Semi paused his playing to instead write out quick tips for himself for when he played the piece later on. As opposed to the twenty-one minutes his teacher said the piece would take to play in its entirety, it took Semi a good thirty-three to weave it all together, even with the extra minutes he took in slowing down the already slow seventh movement. 

Semi brought his hand up to his mouth, running his fingertips over his cracked lips in mild displeasure. He had ticked off certain movements and measures where he'd need to practice more later on. With a deep breath at his own playing, Semi set aside the piece on the ground and brought out the pages for Beethoven's Sonata, giving the first page a once over before setting his fingers on the keys and beginning the piece, albeit not as quickly as the music called for. He had run through this song before when he had first bought it at the local music store and he had a basic idea how the music panned out, but other than the lesson from yesterday that had only consisted of choosing the song and playing out a few more complicated rhythms in the song, this was all new to him and his fingers.

Nonetheless, Semi had gone through enough sight-reading that the piece, while quite complex, held a certain sense of simplicity in playing it that Semi couldn't help but enjoy as his fingers flew across the keys. He easily peeled away page after page yet again, content in the delicious sound that the pedal produced when pressed as well as the ease that came with playing the trills usually so difficult to produce on his own piano. Now he felt almost as if he was playing the notes too quickly, too easily, too freely. He loved it. He loved it so much.

He almost felt sad as the piece came to a stuttering halt, his fingers landing easily on the final notes like a sigh, holding the pedal down for just a moment longer than after he picked his hands up. Semi froze above the keys, sweat pooling at his temples as another smile stretched across his face. He wanted more, he needed more, but a quick glance at the clock hanging above the guitar stand as well as the sudden clatter of students in the hall alerted Semi that he was likely already late for class, or at least about to be.

Gathering his music together and shoving it down into the depths of his bag, Semi quickly took off down the hall, disrupting the crowd of students that had gathered around the door to the music room and leaving them with nothing but an unapologetic 'sorry' thrown over his shoulder. He entered his classroom a moment behind his teacher who shot him a disapproving glare over his shoulder before ushering him into his seat as he made his way to the podium at the front of the classroom.

Semi could feel Tendou's eyes on him as he filed down the pathway between the desks and slid behind his own seat, politely greeting his teacher with the rest of his class before flopping down into his chair. The girl in front of him suddenly turned around, holding a small slip of paper folded into a square small enough to fit in his nostril. He shot her a confused look, but she just shrugged and nodded her head towards Tendou before turning back to the front of the classroom.

'We need to talk' Tendou's messy handwriting caught Semi's eye as he unfolded the offending piece of paper. He peered curiously over towards his friend but was only met with the sight of the other's back as he remained fixated on the teacher.

Semi frowned, but set the scrap into his bag as he pulled out the book the teacher had instructed the class to. As he flipped to the page he asked them to Semi could feel the start of a solemn song find its way to his fingers and he easily became too caught up in the tune to notice Tendou's eyes now trained on him. 

\---

"We need to talk," Tendou said as the class was dismissed for lunch, stalking over to Semi's desk at an alarmingly quick pace. It was almost disconcerting to see Tendou move so quickly, truly like a man on a mission.

Semi bit back a snipe of 'yeah, the letter said as much' to instead turn back down towards his bag, away from Tendou and his oddly jarring eyes. "If it's about me missing morning practice," Semi began even though he knew perfectly well that this was most certainly not about morning practice. Likely the only one who would be truly angry at his act of defiance was the coach. Perhaps Ushijima. "It doesn't matter, anyways." the unsaid end of the self-deprecation hung in the air for a moment.

"You know perfectly well that it's not about that," Tendou snapped, the soft drawl usually in his voice gone so as to make way for a new sort of crisp clearness, as if pronouncing his words with sharp intonation would allow them to pass to the other easier. The other students already filtering out of the classroom to fetch their lunch seemed to move faster as they heard the change in Tendou's voice. 

"No," Semi sighed, drawing his eyes away from his bag to now face Tendou, a sort of deadpan look taking over his expression almost reflexively, "I don't. Care to explain?"

Tendou's lip furled up, obviously unamused at Semi. "What the hell was yesterday, Eita?" he asked almost desperately as he fell down into the seat of the desk in front of the other boy, sitting in it backwards so as to peer at his friend, "You know that we were joking, right? I'm not going to lie and say that I know why you go offended, because I honestly don't, but we were just messing with you, okay? You said all that fancy piano shit wasn't yours, and we believe you. We just like to tease you, you know that, right?"

Semi let out a small huff of air. They didn't know. He couldn't decide whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Perhaps the real reason he didn't want his team to know of his musical ministrations was the fact that he had kept it a secret from them for so long. This was stupid, really. It wasn't even that big of a deal. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been playing for so long, his music so advanced that if he revealed himself to his teammates they would surly know that he had been hiding this from them. Of course he was. He was just being stupid and irrational, but who was he to deny himself of his own nature.

"Don't worry about it," Semi rolled his eyes in faux annoyance, "You all know by now that I'm too hot headed for my own good, even when it does come from teasing." He watched as the other hesitantly smiled, as if not sure that that had solved whatever rift Semi had struck between them yesterday. However, his face burst into two after another moment of studying Semi and he quickly leaned across the table to affectionately pat at Semi's shoulder.

"Well then that's good," Tendou cheered soon afterwards, the drawl back on his tongue and giving it a certain kind of 'country-boy' feel to it. "We missed you at practice this morning, you know. Shirabu was so worried, man, oh my gosh. He thought--well, Goshiki thought, but I'm pretty sure that he had planted the idea in his mind or something--you were going to quit the team or something. Even asked where you were."

Semi laughed weakly, clearing his throat once he noticed just how fake it sounded even to him, "Don't get your hopes up any time soon," he teased lightly, rising to his feet before Tendou could do so himself, "You'll all have to deal with me for the rest of the year, sadly enough."

"Don't be so down on yourself," Tendou shouted excitedly, jumping up from his seat to swing his arms around Semi's neck, all but dragging him out of the classroom and down the hall with laughter in his voice, "The team wouldn't be complete without you nagging at us every step of the way."

"Of course, of course," Semi muttered, shoving playfully at Tendou as the two of them made their way towards the cafeteria to buy whatever cold lunch meal the school was offering today. Despite the exchange, Semi's conscious seemed to grow in him. He couldn't believe that he had actually made the team feel as if he was about to quit all because he played the piano. A seed had been planted and instead of the hearty carrot it had promised, it seemed that some giant beanstalk had taken it's place. His fingers twitched inside his pockets as Tendou happily chattered along aimlessly, but he kept them still. 

\---

"Coach," Semi called over towards their coach in the short time allotted in between the warm up and the actual practice. He trotted over to the old man, the feeling of being watched not leaving him as he did, although he couldn't tell if it was the coach or his teammates. He brushed it off as he stopped in front of where the man stood, arms crossed and a slight frown on his face as he stared down at Semi.

"What is it?" Washijou Tanji asked, not particularly harsh but definitely not sugar sweet, either. "Practice will be starting soon, and you'll be working on serves with Yamagata today, so don't skive out on that." the man narrowed his eyes at the teen, who simply rolled his eyes.

"It's about the upcoming game we have set up against Aobajousai," Semi admitted, ignoring the way the coach's eyes widened in curiosity, his stance becoming a bit more open as Semi spoke of the game that was still a month away, "I won't be able to play in it, or even make it."

Washijou's lip caught up in something of a sneer, "And why not?" he sounded bitter as he asked the question. 

"I have a prior engagement that takes precedent over a volleyball game," Semi responded, trying his best to make his tone sound mature, as if he knew exactly what he was talking about and not, in fact, spouting bullshit that he had made up on the spot. He had done pretty well, if the sigh of acceptance from the coach was anything to go by.

"Fine," Washijou agreed, pulling a hand up to rub at his temples, "But I sure as hell hope it's important, because you'll be doing a few laps of flying falls to make up for it." the old man glanced up from between his fingers to look at Semi and see if the boy had simply said what he did to get out of the game or if he actually had something he had to do that day.

"Right, thank you." Semi answered, bowing slightly as he excused himself back towards his teammate who had already began practice per the instructions Washijou had written out on a white board and propped proudly against the gym wall. 

"What was that about?" Yamagata's voice made Semi jump, "Washijou is still glaring at you from across the gym, you know that, right?"

Semi laughed, rolling his eyes in hope that it would roll his nervousness off of him as well, "That old man is always glaring at me," he tried his best to avoid Yamagata's first question, but the slight twitch of the other's eyebrow alerted him that it hadn't worked. "I've gotta do some flying falls, it'll be done in a few minutes. Feel free to practice without me until then."

With that as his out, Semi quickly scurried away from his teammate to begin Washijou's punishment, his fingers aching in a way that made him want to clench them against his palms and hold them there forever. A flash of guilt overtook him when he realized that he couldn't tell if the ache was in anticipation of the ball gently falling into the cradle that they made or in anticipation of the ivory keys beneath him and under his complete and total control.

\---

"Eita," the voice of Semi's cousin called out to where the younger sat on the piano bench, hunched over his music with a pencil floating over a certain phrase he was stuck on and a frown painting his face, "I met up with a friend of mine, from high-school, and she mentioned that she has a son who plays the piano as well. He's only about seven or eight and she said that he has a little recital today. When I mentioned that you played as well she invited the two of us to his recital, and I think it would be a good idea for you to get away from your music for a little while. You'll let it drive you insane even before the competition." his cousin laughed weakly as he approached Semi, peering over his shoulder to check his progress.

Semi hummed as a sign that he had heard his cousin as he scratched out a small note at the top of the phrase before setting the page up on the stand again and set his fingers on the keys yet again. He could hear his cousin sigh and perch next to him at the edge of the bench. Semi sang the notes under his breath as he slowly went through the movements of the phrase, ending it with another frown.

"I take it that wasn't any good," his cousin stated, even though he couldn't really tell the difference between this try and the many seemingly identical tries Semi had played out earlier that morning. He watched once again as Semi angrily erased his own suggestion. "Exactly my point, this piece has been driving you crazy all week. I get that you want to get it perfect, but you can do that later tonight. Your mother would have me skinned alive if she saw that I allowed you to stay in all day."

He froze at his cousin's words, grabbing his lip between his teeth and quietly putting the music aside and setting the pencil down on the top of the piano, "Fine," he agreed almost silently as he slid out from the piano, plodding towards where he had a stray pair of jeans flung over the back of their ratty couch, "But you owe me one." He quickly shed his two-sizes-too-large sweat pants and yanked the pants up his legs. The skinny jeans felt like they were suffocating his legs as compared to the looseness of his previous pants. 

"More like you owe me one," his cousin teased as he led the younger towards their entryway, swinging his keys around his finger as he waited for Semi to lace up his shoes. They'd probably have to make a run later in the month to buy new ones, Semi mused as he took a moment to reapply the duct tape that kept the sole attached to the rest of the shoe. 

"If you insist," Semi said once the two of them had exited the small apartment, locking up behind them and walking towards the closest train station, "Where is this recital, anyways?" 

"In town," the older answered, sliding his phone out of his pocket. Semi peeked at it and saw the maps app open, a small green beacon showing where they were going, "It's actually in one of the music halls by where you performed earlier this week. Not the exact one, obviously, but close." he laughed humorously for another moment before silencing himself when Semi didn't laugh along with him. The two of them remained in the sort of awkward and yet not particularly uncomfortable silence that usually surrounded them until they boarded the train on the line that would lead them almost directly to the collection of music halls that their city prided itself on.

Once seated on the sleepy, almost empty train, Semi extracted his own phone from his pocket and slid into his messenger app to deal with the many excited texts sent by Satori and the rest of the team: most of them asking him where he was and why he had skived out on their Sunday study group. Even Ushijima, in his exceptionally polite and formal way of typing, had asked where he was, thankfully not adding in some sort of captain's spiel on how team building was important or something of the sort.

He pulled up their team group chat and sent a message explaining to them all that he was out with his cousin for the day. It was the truth, after all. Granted, not the whole truth, but the truth nonetheless. He congratulated himself on that much. Instantly, Semi was barraged with a flood of texts from the team, Satori and Goshiki excitedly asking him where he was going, Shirabu answering in his usual uninterested fashion, Reon and Yamagata wishing him a nice time, Ushijima sending him a much more formal wish of fun, and Kawanishi simply not answering. How quaint.

He smiled lightly at their enthusiasm, spending the rest of the train ride messaging his team until his cousin tapped him on the shoulder to alert him that their stop was coming up. With another quick message to the team, Semi slid the phone back into his pocket and stood beside his cousin as the train doors opened, allowing them and a few others to bleed out into the streets before taking off once again.

The area around the music halls was bustling as always, teachers and students of various instruments threading through the crowds as they tried to reach whatever competition they were competing in or recital they had prepared for or concert they wanted to attend. "I think that it's this way," Semi's cousin said, staring down at his phone before popping his head back up to glance around himself. He nodded as if to say, 'yeah, this way for sure,' and took off towards one of the smaller music halls, used for lower level students as well as some classes.

Semi followed behind the older, not bothering to look around as he already knew the area quite well. It wasn't long before they made their way into one of the music halls, the inside of it significantly warmer than the biting spring air outside of it. The younger watched his cousin look around in confusion for another moment before Semi decided to take charge, grabbing his cousin's wrist and leading him towards the bulletin inside of the hall that listed all of the events of today and where they were located.

"They're in Auditorium Two," Semi said as he scanned the bulletin, not missing the confused look his cousin sent him, "In these music halls they usually have two or three auditoriums. This one actually has four, but the one that I played in earlier this week is one of the biggest, but only has two. I think that the biggest one only has one, but that one is also used for plays."

His cousin nodded before taking leadership of their trek once again and leading Semi towards the second auditorium, humming along to one of his current music obsessions as he made his way down the hall. Semi quietly followed behind his cousin, straining his ears to catch any sort of music that may be playing. Sure enough, as they got closer to Auditorium Two, Semi could hear the faint plink of keys as someone played out an easy little tune. It was flawed but also quite endearing, at least knowing that it was a child behind the piano, their little hands tripping across the keys and a small stool set below their feet to keep them flat.

Semi's cousin only opened the door into the auditorium once the tune ended and a loud burst of applause left the audience, allowing the two to make their way into the small auditorium. Rather than lights only focused on the stage as Semi had come to expect, they lit up the entirety of the auditorium, making each smile glued on each face only glow brighter. It was nice.

"Naomi!" a feminine voice cut through Semi's thoughts as a woman who seemed about his cousin's age made her way over to the two of them, "Wow, thank you so much for making it."

"Of course," his cousin responded with a polite smile on his face, "Ume, this is my cousin, Semi Eita. He's the one that I told you about as well." 

The woman—Ume, Semi supposed—turned to him with a bright smile on her face before quickly offering him a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Eita. I'm Oikawa Ume, but please just call me Ume. Naomi has told me that you play the piano as well, is that correct?"

Semi blanched slightly at the woman's name. Had he heard that correctly? Oikawa? Was this the same Oikawa family that Semi was thinking of? "Umm…yes," he finally said after a moment of surprise, "I've played since I was five and I've kept it up to this day," he continued to speak as if to make up for his long moment of pause. Ume didn't seem affected by it, however.

"Oh that's fantastic!" she cheered, clapping her hands together as a bubbly laugh erupted from her throat. "My son, Takeru, has only been playing for about two years, but he's made some great progress if you ask me. That could just be a mother talking, though."

Semi laughed at this, watching his cousin smile almost smugly as he watched the two interact. "It's pretty easy to pick up if you enjoy it," he confided in Ume.

"Well that's good," she continued, obviously pleased, "Other than volleyball that boy doesn't seem to have any interests, so knowing that he likes the piano so much is something of relief."

"Your son plays volleyball?" Semi asked, intrigued. This could very well be the Oikawa family.

"Oh yes," Ume said with a snort, "My little brother, his uncle, is absolutely obsessed with the game, and obviously it rubbed off on my son. The two have always been so close, it was bound to happen." Her small sigh turned into a smile before morphing into a soft laugh. "Tooru, my brother, is actually up in the front of the auditorium with Takeru. My son is probably trying to teach his uncle how to properly play the piano once again, but I'm pretty sure that he enjoys being better than him at something more than actually teaching him." So this was the Oikawa family that Semi knew.

"I play volleyball, as well, as a matter of fact," Semi supplied, watching as Ume's face seemed to light up even brighter than it was before, "I go to the school in town, and we've played against your brother's team quite a few times."

Ume laughed loudly once again, "You're part of the 'evil' Shiratorizawa? Under the 'reign of the demonic Ushiwaka?'"

Semi laughed along with her, "I take it that Oikawa Tooru has spoke of us, then?"

"Spoke? More like ranted over until his face turned blue." Ume smiled, "Anyways, you two follow me up to the front. Eita, if you would like some time at the piano, I'm sure that Takeru's teacher would be more than pleased to have you play."

"Thank you for the offer," Semi said as he and his cousin followed Ume down the aisle towards where Takeru and Oikawa were wrestling about in their seats, both shoving and poking at each other, but also giggling as they did. 

"Takeru, Tooru," Ume addressed as the three of them reached the two boys, who immediately separated and peered at the older woman with almost identical guilty expressions on their faces, "Don't bother looking guilty, I've already caught you two goofing off. Anyways, this is my friend, Semi Naomi, and his cousin, Semi Eita. He's the one who plays the piano, Takeru, and apparently he plays volleyball at your 'rival school,' Tooru."

Both boys turned from Ume to Naomi and finally to Eita. 

"You play the piano?" Takeru asked suspiciously as he eyed Semi's fingers as if they would suddenly sprout a piano underneath them, cutting of Oikawa before he could speak. Semi was slightly grateful of the younger boy, even as his cousin lightly shoved at him to file in and sit down next to Oikawa and Takeru.

"Yeah," he confirmed, spreading out his fingers before the two of them and wiggling them about for a moment before setting them in his lap and peering over at the two boys. Takeru's eyes narrowed once again.

"Prove it." the boy challenged.

"Only after you do," Semi poked back at the younger, ignoring Oikawa's continuous gaze that seemed to follow up and down his body multiple times. 

Takeru pouted before grabbing his music from out of his lap and turning towards Semi, "It's my turn, anyways, and you have to go right after me."

"Be sure to tell your teacher that Eita will play after you, okay Takeru?" Ume said, grabbing Takeru's hand as he passed by her and pulling him in for a quick peck on the cheek, "Play your best, okay? Let's see what all of your hard work can give us." Takeru nodded to his mother before bouncing up to his teacher, a kind lady with a bright smile, and speaking to her a low voice, even turning to point Semi out for her before happily bounding up to the stage and setting his books up in front of him.

"So, Semi-chan," Oikawa began as Takeru's teacher filed up to the stage to help adjust the bench for the still fidgeting Takeru. Semi turned to face Oikawa with an impassive look on his face, "You play the piano?"

"Obviously," Semi says with a roll of his eyes.

"I should have known," Oikawa says, sighing dramatically as he flies back into his seat, a hand clutched at his forehead, "With fingers like those you were bound to be something besides a setter."

Semi snorted, "With each time I'm in your presence I'm more and more convinced that you should have joined your school's drama club. You'd finally have an outlet for your outrageous personality."

"Oh, but my dear Ei-chan," Oikawa sings, making Semi roll his eyes and the continuously changing nickname that Oikawa seems to give him, "Then I'd never get the chance to see your beautiful face break when we destroy you in the match next month."

"Exactly why you should join the drama club, To-chan," Semi responds, mocking the other's sing-song voice, "You have such beautiful fantasies, they would really make marvelous shows." Semi laughs lightly at Oikawa's pout before continuing. "Besides, I won't be participating in the match next month, so you'll have to settle for the blindingly excited expressions of my teammates instead of me."

"Ooh?" Oikawa asks, leaning across Takeru's empty seat to eye at Semi, "You won't be playing? I don't see any broken arms or legs, are you planning something before the game, Ei-chan?"

Semi rolls his eyes, "Don't get your hopes up, Tooru. I have a competition next month, and unlike you, piano trumps volleyball by a long shot."

"Excuse me!" Tooru shrieks, casting an eye to where Takeru is still readying himself to begin his piece, "I'll have you know that I'm missing very important team-bonding right now, meaning that piano is taking precedent to volleyball."

"And so am I," Semi answers smoothly, "And I'm also missing an exciting match against you and your team next month for it, so I win."

Tooru huffs indignantly, crossing his arms childishly, but is silenced as Takeru begins his piece slowly. Semi watches at the endearing way that Takeru's eyes are constantly flying from the keys to the piece and back again, his fingers hesitantly pressing down the notes. His tongue sticks out of his mouth in concentration, similar to how Oikawa does as he winds himself up for one of his infamous serves, but it's much cuter on him than it is on his uncle. 

When he finishes his song shortly after, he springs from the bench, a smile breaking his face in two as the crowd erupts in applause. Tooru and Ume are by far the loudest, even going as far as to stand as they hoot and holler at the young boy. Semi is almost startled, forgetting just how informal most recital's and concert's are for younger students. He claps loudly, though, smiling as he sees Takeru exit off the stage with one of the biggest smiles that he has ever seen on a child glued to his face. 

The boy races down the aisle and leaps at his mother, excitedly rambling about his piece as she sent praises down at him before turning towards Semi and Tooru. Well, towards Semi, but with the bright smile that Tooru was sending his nephew his gaze seemed to be directed at both of the older boys. "It's your turn to play," he spoke smugly and Tooru laughed at the other's tone.

"Did your teacher say that it was fine?" Semi asked, already removing himself from his seat as he spoke.

The young boy nods and files around where Semi stands to instead sit back in his seat next to Tooru. "All of the other kids have recital at a later time, so she said it was okay if you went right now." his voice is commanding, and, with another cackle from the young boy's uncle, Semi turns towards the aisle of the auditorium.

He makes his way up towards where Takeru's teacher sits and quietly introduces himself, exchanging a few pleasantries with the older woman before confirming with her which piece he should play and finally stepping up onto the stage.

It's smaller than the ones that he usually plays on and Semi feels a rush back to when he was Takeru's age and was allowed to plink at the keys to no expense. Each mistake he made in front of others was something to laugh over, not something that could make or break his career in music. Being able to stare out across the audience and see each face as clearly as he could see his own in a mirror as opposed to seeing those shroud in shadows was almost relaxing. As he peered out across the small chattering audience he caught Tooru's eyes, the other boy quickly sending him a taunting face to which he returned by simply sticking his tongue out. There would be no consequence to those actions.

He turns away from the crowd to instead adjust the bench, sitting down on the seat after each slight adjustment until he gets it to the perfect height. Semi knows that Tooru and Takeru must both be rolling their eyes at each other, but as he slides onto the bench and is met not with the soft scritch-scratching of pencil on paper but instead with the excited murmuring of the crowd, he can't find it in himself to care too much about the others' antics.

As Semi turns to the piano, he drowns out the sounds of the crowd, instead focusing on the song at hand, trying to remember how each phrase went, where each ritardando is located, how long each time change goes for. With a sigh and a silent plea for muscle memory to help him out, Semi begins the piece, Nocturne in a Minor, with his left hand fifth finger on 'e.' From there the notes flow from his fingers in a form just as passionate as when he had first mastered the song and spent nearly the whole night playing it time and time again for his cousin until the older reminded him that he had practice the next morning and would be too worn out to play if he didn't get some rest.

At one point in his piece the auditorium suddenly goes quiet as the students and parents alike realize that this isn't one of their peers playing, but rather someone who seems to be on the level of their teacher as Semi's fingers play deftly through unhurried sixteenth notes and over-exaggerated dynamics. A smile blossoms on his face as he continues through the song, almost embarrassed as the surprised gasps of the students reach his ears once they realize that he is playing such a piece without any sheet music spread out in front of him.

He wants to tell them that this piece is easy compared to other things that he has been forced to memorize, that one day they will be even better than he is and will be able to play symphonies with only one note and compose masterpieces in their sleep, but instead he is quiet and allows them to revel in his music. It's flattering, really, as he takes the last ritardando of the piece and slows the music down to an almost dead speed that it much, much too slow, that the students hold their breaths in anticipation for the last note which he delivers with a sense of finality some five or six minutes after he began the song.

Semi gently removes his fingers from the keys and stands from the piano to face the informal audience. The students and parents alike burst into the same informal applause they had given to Takeru, filled with shouts and hollers that make Semi want to laugh. He gives the audience a formal bow despite the all too large grin on his face before leaping off of the stage and filing down to the aisle back to his seat where Ume, Takeru, and Tooru are all looking at him with a sort of dumb amazement. His cousin sent him a sort of sentimental smirk all the while clapping in that slow, sarcastic way that he always did for him.

"Well damn," Tooru says once Semi is back in his seat, ignoring his sister's reprimands of cursing in front of Takeru, "If this is how you play for children I'm interested in how you'll play for a panel of judges."

"Much better than that," Semi answers smugly, patting Takeru's head as the younger rambles on about the piece with a certain vernacular that Semi can't quite catch up with, "And about three times as long."

Tooru groans half heartedly, beating at his chest at the thought of a piece that long, "I can't even sit still and watch the same television show for that long."

"What about those crappy sci-fi shows you like to watch?" Takeru spoke up, laughing as Tooru shot him an almost wounded look.

"The point is," Tooru punctuates, sending another glare at Takeru who is still cackling in a way that is much too maniacal for a seven or eight year old to be able to manage. "That is too long for anyone to have to sit and play."

"Usually I would defend myself, but considering the fact that today alone I have spent nearly ten hours on my pieces, I'll have to agree with you on that one." 

Tooru lets out another loud groan, tilting his head back in his seat now as he does. "Well now I have to see your concert, if that's how dedicated you are to it."

"Volleyball game," Semi reminds him with a slight lilt in his voice.

"Just give me a time, Ei-chan," Tooru says, hitting Semi with what seems to be one of his genuine smiles that he's only heard of through late night snapchat stories and busy twitter feeds, "I'll be there." 

\---

"We missed you on Sunday," Tendou teases during morning practice the next day as they're working together on their warm-up stretches. Semi sneers up at his friend, his hands too occupied in reaching out towards his toes to flip off his classmate. He's grateful for the fact as he catches Washijou sending them another look out of the corner of his eye. 

"It's just to be expected," Semi brags, pulling back from his toes to instead spread his legs apart and turn to stretching from toe to toe. "I'm a pleasure to be around, no doubt about it."

Tendou laughs loudly before finally rising from his sitting position on the ground, offering Semi a hand to which he quickly accepts, jolting a bit as the other yanks him up harshly. Tendou has always been too strong for his own good. "Oh, by the way," Tendou hums, as he links his arm over Semi's shoulders and steers him towards where the coach and their other teammates are, "Some of that music that you were turning over to the teacher got left behind when you stormed off last week."

Semi tensed beneath Tendou's hold, but luckily the other boy was too caught up with tracking Ushijima's movements across the court to notice. "Is that so?" his voice is tense even in his own ears.

"Yeah," Tendou confirms and Semi can feel his fingers clench up against his sides. Of course. "But don't worry, I turned it in to him before rushing out over here to practice. I probably would have forgotten about them if Goshiki hadn't decided to root through my bag looking for some candy bar he 'could have sworn I had,'" Tendou laughs in a high falsetto that must be his imitation of what their younger teammate sounds like, "Even if I could play the piano I doubt I would be able to play the shit that paper had. It was all like…phffwish!"

Tendou's words are punctuated with wild hand movements, his fingers wiggling as he zooms his hand across the sky in some mild interpretation of what was on the page. Semi feels something inside of him squeeze at the thought of his teammates looking at his music, of his teacher holding his music and thinking it belongs to some other more studious student in their class.

"Beautiful explanation, Satori," Semi snarks, finally coming to himself once he realizes that the silence left after Tendou's words has almost grown too long. He swallows down the lump of anxiety that is steadily growing in the pit of his stomach. "I feel much more educated now, thank you."

His fingers twitch.

\---

"I don't have times for guests, Naomi," Semi says in a low voice, his eyes trained solely on the music spread out before him as his fingers rush over the keys with a careful sort of mastery. "The competition is in two weeks, and I still need to memorize this bit of the piece." he groans in frustration when one of his shaking fingers slips off of a sharp and falls onto the natural note with an ugly clang. He was being driven insane, just as his cousin had predicted except ten times more disappointing with every flubbed note or rhythm.

"Come on, Eita," his cousin whines, tugging at the sleeve of Semi's T-Shirt childishly as Semi begins this bit of the music yet again. His entire arm is shaking, from the slight tremor in his shoulders to the noticeable quake his fingers have taken on. His cousin ignores it for Semi's sake, knowing that the boy is too proud for his own good. "They won't even be guests, we'll be going out too."

Semi frowns, "Just because you're still harboring some high-school crush on a now likely-married woman doesn't mean that you have to drag me around with you like I'm some sort of wingman. Find a friend to do the job, not your kid cousin."

"Why do that when I can finally get your hermit-ass out of the house plus score big with the ladies. A two-in-one deal, if you ask me." his cousin says in that pleased voice of his as if he had just told Semi the secret of the universe that he had been stupid enough not to know. Semi hated that voice.

"I'm pretty sure that the saying--" he stops for a minute as he shifts his hands across the keyboard to press his fingers down yet again and continue the music where he had left off, "--is 'killing two birds with one stone.'"

"Same same," his cousin hums, "Plus, you'll probably be able to see Takeru and Tooru again, and didn't you enjoy hanging out with them last time?"

"'Enjoy' is such a loose term, and seeing as we only spent about thirty minutes with each other, I can't say just how fond I am of the two of them yet." Semi responds vaguely as another frustrated groan leaves him. His wrist is too stiff, and he can feel the tension as the music of his left hand grows louder and louder where it is to grow softer and softer. He tries to take a deep breath in and out, but it's shaky, even in his ears. If his cousin had believed him before, he definitely wouldn't believe him now.

"Well that's unfortunate for you," his cousin responds with a fake pout of pity apparent in his tone of voice, "because I've already invited them over, and you'll have to entertain."

\---

Needless to say, they do have the Oikawas over, and, unusually enough, Semi enjoys himself. Tooru tries to force him to teach him the piano while Takeru skims through Semi's music with a kind of childlike fascination. They both have been formally invited to attend his competition. His gut squeezes at the thought.

\---

"You've been missing a lot of practice lately," uncharacteristically, it was Shirabu who spoke these words to him as they were practicing with some of their fancier sets one afternoon, "Goshiki asks Tendou every day if you're dying or something of the sort."

Semi frowned. He had been missing quite a bit of volleyball practice, hadn't he? In all honesty, he had missed quite a bit of school as well. He was nearly at his limit with how much he could miss in a month before he was written up. It was all his fault, honestly. He had been pulling all-nighters trying to figure out phrases and movements that he needs to get stuck in his fingers sooner rather than later. His body had never been too good at handling long nights spent staying up and he usually crashed in some of the worst manners only to wake up a few hours later feeling worse than he had before his crash had happened. From there he was usually right back on the piano bench going over his music once again.

"Not to mention," Shirabu continues, spinning the ball absentmindedly in his hands as he peers off to the side, "You look like literal shit."

"Thanks," Semi replies sarcastically. His hand reaches up to run through his hair but stops briefly to rub at his eyes. He really needed to sleep. He always got like this before competitions, drilling out pages for hours on end and driving his cousin out of their apartment to bum on one of his friends' couches. "I moisturize daily."

"Oh tell me," the younger setter says in the same tone. He rolls his eyes before chucking the ball he still held at Semi's chest. "What's your secret moisturizer? Where can I buy this miraculous product that so easily adds ten years to a face?"

"Ahh," Semi tuts, "I usually don't tell anyone this, but, for my sweet, kind, and charismatic underclassman, I believe I can divulge this long kept and well guarded secret unto you." he pauses, glancing around the busy gym as if he's afraid someone is listening in on them. "It's called: the Bullshit that Comes from Shirabu Kenjirou's Mouth. T-M."

Shirabu fixes him with what could have been one of the nastiest glares that Semi has ever seen. "You even trademarked it?" he sneers.

Semi shrugs, "What else am I supposed to do with all of the money that I make selling my great facial products?"

"Maybe if you put as much effort into volleyball as you did coming up with insults over me you'd actually be a regular." Ahh, and there it is. Perhaps not what Semi was expecting in this scenario, but he could think of a few that would lead to conversations that were quite similar to this one. One such major scenario was also the current reason of his insanity. The thought of the piano made his fingers twitch around the ball that he was still holding. Was that the right fingering? he wonders as his fifth finger slams in behind the quick tap of his middle finger. Had he been thinking of the correct keys? The right tempo? Was he going crazy?

"Hmm," Semi says once he realizes that he has been silent for too long, creating an atmosphere that seems to hint at him actually being hurt by his underclassman's comment, "If I put as much effort into anything as I did coming up with insults I would probably be able to take over a small country. Perhaps even a large one." he shuffles the ball underneath his arms and reaches out to scruff at Shirabu's hair. He laughs as the boy attempts to dodge from Semi's hand before simply excepting his fate, but only for half a second before he easily shoves Semi's hand away from him.

"Let's just practice," Shirabu mumbles, yanking the ball from Semi's grasp and stalking off to a few feet away from the older to continue the routine they had been working on. 

Semi can feel a smile creeping onto his lips even with Shirabu's intimidating glare set on him. A song fills his heart and he is overcome with the insatiable urge to tap it out on the piano as soon as possible. 

\---

"You're competition is pretty soon," Oikawa said as he gnawed absentmindedly at some popsicle the two had purchased at the convenience store down the street. The two were currently sat on the curb outside of said convenience store, both staring down at the glossy pages of one of the magazines Tooru subscribed to. After their few encounters courtesy of Semi's cousin, he and Tooru had put aside their team rivalries—that is to say they didn't let them get in the way of them interacting, not that they didn't bicker over them—and had met up a few times to talk or study. Mostly their time together was spent doing just what they were doing at the moment, flipping through one of Tooru's many magazines. It was almost a waste of time considering they didn't even live in the same town and meeting up always cost one of them a fair bit of money from their wallets. Still, it was nice.

"Yep," Semi responded, popping his 'p' as he reached over Tooru to flip the page and continue some article about home decor that was oddly fascinating to read. "Three days now." 

They were silent as they both read the next page of the article, humming at certain places and snorting at others. "You're game is in three days," Semi said as they're both staring down at a picture of a sort of minimalistic dining room set somewhere in the forest. 

"Yep," Tooru spoke in the same way as he tapped at the picture with his free forefinger. "I assume that you won't be there, even though it is your team that we're playing against."

Semi rolled his eyes, leaning over to bump at Tooru with his shoulder before taking the magazine from him entirely in hopes of finding a better article for the two of them to read. Hopefully one that they hadn't already skimmed through. "As it is with ever time I tell you this," Semi gritted out between playfully clenched teeth, "I have to stay throughout the entire competition, even if that means that I'll have to fall to sleep backstage."

Tooru let out a sharp laugh at this, throwing his head back to bark at the sky. "Have you ever done that before? Fallen asleep backstage, that is."

"Sure I have," Semi shrugged as he places the magazine back in the space between them. It was an article on something vaguely space related which he knew Tooru would love. "Sometimes the competition begins super early in the morning and, if my time isn't until late enough in the day, I simply fall asleep. Other times I haven't been able to sleep before a competition and simply pass out on the first bench that I pass."

Tooru hummed in a sing-songy sort of way that unnerved Semi. "You're so naughty, Ei-chan. Falling to sleep during a competition. What would Ushiwaka say if he saw you doing such a thing?" his tone was teasing as he read through the article that Semi had chosen.

"Probably something really deep and serious," Semi suggested, "And I don't mean deep as in emotionally stirring or whatever, I just mean that his voice is really, really deep."

"It's not nice to talk shit about our teammates, Ei-chan," Tooru scolded him as if he were a kindergarten student.

"I'm not," Semi defended himself weakly, "I'm just saying that, well, it's true when they say that a deeper voice is definitely sexier."

Tooru snickered quietly before his face turned oddly serious. "I'll try to make it to your competition, though. I want to see you play for real, not just something for Takeru's friends that doesn't even challenge you."

Semi passed the other boy a soft smile, "Thanks for that. I hope to see you there."

\---

"Ushijima," Satori drawls at the end of practice on the eve of the game as the team is finishing up the last of their cool down stretches, "You're the captain, say something inspiring to pump us all up for the game tomorrow." 

"Yeah, Ushijima!" Goshiki calls out enthusiastically from his spot on the ground as he stretches himself out in ways that Semi can't even imagine without his body aching in a way that makes him feel like and old man even though he's only seventeen, "Give us a speech! A speech, a speech!" 

Semi can hear Shirabu mutter something about the younger being too excitable for his own good, but his eyes are now drawn towards Ushijima who is gracefully stepping forward with just the right amount of humbleness to make him seem almost bashful in front of his teammates. Of course, by now Semi knows that the other third year most certainly isn't bashful, just awkward in a way that makes him hold himself higher than most. A rare case, Tendou had once described it as the two have turned their playful banter onto their captain who had been seated stoically between the two of them on a long bus ride back from a game. 

"All right," Ushijima speaks in his deep rumbling voice that easily draws them all in, "I'm not too sure what to say. So, I suppose, good luck to you all. We've all trained hard, and I'm sure that we'll be able to win this game. It is not for any sort of larger tournament for us to worry over, but it may affect our standing, so play without distractions and I'm sure that all will go well." he nods stiffly as he finishes in a sort of childlike manner.

Tendou lets out a snort before slowly clapping his hands. "Oh, that was so beautiful," he sobs, wiping away a fake tear from his eye as he does so, "I can feel the emotion, the heart behind it. Ushijima, that is a Ted Talk on its own. Bravo! Encore!" 

Ushijima rolls his eyes and tosses the bunched up penny he had been wearing moments before at the other third year who catches it with a cackle. Semi rolls his eyes, but a smirk still finds its way onto his face as he politely folds up his own penny and sets it onto the small table the managers had set up earlier. He holds a hand out and catches Ushijima's and Tendou's pennies as the latter tosses them over to him. He gags over-dramatically at the smell, much to Tendou's pleasure, before folding the pennies up and setting them next to his. The managers would take them to be cleaned after practice, so it didn't matter too much whether or not they were folded up or not, but it really was the principle of the matter.

"How would you have done a speech then?" Semi turns to Ushijima arguing with the other third year who stands there with a smug smile on his face. The ace's face is still impassive, but with the smallest glow of a challenge in his eyes.

"Obviously," Satori begins, dropping the cocky stance he previously held to instead hold his hands out in something of a 'duhh' position, "I would have asked Eita to do it for me. He's better at words and he hasn't even been speaking Japanese as long as I have."

"As if!" Semi snaps as he walks over to where the other two third years are gathered. Reon and Yamagata are still on the ground stretching out as they snicker at their three classmates. The underclassmen are all in various states of stretching, but they, too, watch the three of them with rapt attention. "Sorry, Satori, but if you ever had to give a captain's speech I would just leave it all up to you."

Satori huffs dramatically before spinning on his heels to face where the majority of their teammates are seated, "Established citizens of the great Miyagi Prefecture T-M--"

"Did you really just trademark our prefecture?" Yamagata snorts as he stands up from where he was seated to grin over at Satori.

"Yes, Hayato," Satori sighs in something of an over-exaggeration, much to the other's amusement, "But don't interrupt me, your temporary captain, Tendou Satori, wing blocker extraordinaire, during my very important captain's speech." he sighs once again. He throws his arms back and tilts his head up towards the ceiling of the gym, "As I was saying, established citizens of blah, blah, blah T-M. Fine students of the esteemed Shiratorizawa Academy. I, your captain, have something to say. Tomorrow is the big game. The game against the team that is not the school's arch rival, but rather Wakatoshi's arch rival-cum-potential love interest and his team. Please, we must beat them! If we want to maintain our…Semi! the word!"

"Decorum, conquest, legend, title. Take your pick." Semi sneers from next to the other.

"Yes! If we want to maintain our those words as the best school in this prefecture, as the best in the nation even, we must beat Aoba Jousai! If not for us, then do it for Wakatoshi and his personal rivalry!" Satori cries out, pumping his fist into the air as he ends his poor excuse for a speech.

"You do know that this game doesn't matter too much in the scheme of things, right Satori?" Reon asks as he and Yamagata are exiting the gym to change back into their school uniforms. 

Satori squawks loudly after them as the remaining underclassmen laugh loudly at their so called temporary captain. Well, Goshiki mostly.

Semi smiles as he walks towards the door that the other third years had disappeared out of. "Well," he calls over his shoulder, catching the team's attention as he does, "Best of luck to all of you tomorrow. Kick Seijou's ass for good measure."

"What are you talking about, Eita?" Satori laughs, "You're going to be there to help us kick their asses, too."

Semi freezes as he's reaching for the door handle. "Right, right," he says as happily as he can. "Best of luck to us, then." He walks out of the door.

His fingers can't play.

\---

"Where the hell is he?" Satori all but yells as his team finishes stretching on their side of the net, Aoba Jousai doing the same on their side. Washijou is busy making pleasantries with the opposing team's two coaches and hasn't been able to talk to them all too much besides passing them a piece of paper with their warm-up regiment and telling them flat out to get busy. "If Eita had another goddamn appointment I swear to God I am going to wring his scrawny little neck."

"Calm down, Tendou," Reon chides the other boy as he shoves a volleyball into Satori's chest, leaving him to catch it before it falls to the ground. "Semi's probably just late. Maybe he forgot to set an alarm and simply let himself sleep in. His cousin will get him up in time for the game."

Satori glowers, but it's more of a pout as he realizes that Reon is probably correct, after all. Reon was correct a lot. "Well I'll still kick his ass. He has serious gall, showing up late. Even after that terrific speech I gave last night! If anything, he should have been here early, already working on his serves and sets by the time that we arrived, fueled solely by my powerful words." Satori's bad mood seems to have dissipated as he instead shifts the volleyball around in his arms so that he can clutch at his chest, a smug smile on his face as he throws his head back to face the ceiling. 

"Ahh," Kawanishi uncharacteristically speaks up as he passes by the two of them, volleyball in his hands. "The power of words. Truly a force to be reckoned with."

"Is that sarcasm I sense?" Satori shrieks after the second year, shaking a finger after the younger before bounding after him to complete the routine that Washijou had given to them. "I'll have you know, Kawanishi-chan, my words have inspired many a person throughout my years."

Shirabu butts into their conversation with an unconvinced hum. "Is that so? An example being…?"

Satori looks smug as he shifts his stance about, speaking even as he tosses the volleyball up into the air and sets off on his workout. "I once told Eita he had a horrible taste in fashion and since then he has improved greatly."

"You texted me about that, didn't you?" Ushijima asks, suddenly appearing behind Shirabu and making the smaller setter jump in surprise. Tendou's eyes widen almost comically at Ushijima's intrusion into the conversation. "You said something like, 'that shirt plus that body equals one sexually frustrated…' what was the phrase that you used after this?"

"Guess Monster?" a new voice joins their ranks and Ushijima nods approvingly. 

"Yes, 'one sexually frustrated Guess Monster', although I don't see why you were so--" Ushijima stops short and his eyes widen in a similar fashion to Tendou's just moments before as he recognizes the voice. He whips around to face the owner of it, not quite able to steel his expression fast enough. "Oikawa?"

Oikawa Tooru smiles coyly up at the ace. Unsurprisingly he's decked out in the Aoba Jousai uniform with a volleyball tucked under the crook of his arm. Surprisingly, however, he's seemed to have ducked under the net onto the Shiratorizawa side of the court. Even his own teammates seem to be shocked at his actions, and perhaps a little unnerved as well, which immediately puts Tendou on the edge.

"How can we help you, all mighty Oikawa-sama?" Tendou asks sarcastically, flourishing himself into a bow as he does so.

"Oikawa-sama?" Oikawa muses as if testing out the name, "Oh yes, I quite like that. I'll have to remember to use it at some point. But that's beside the point, my dearest Guess Monster as well as the rest of the Shiratorizawa team and also Ushiwaka too I guess," he speaks quickly as if the words that he is speaking at the moment dim in comparison to whatever he's about to say, "Do you possibly know where your dearest setter is?"

"Right here," Shirabu speaks up softly, almost shyly compared to his usual blunt manner of speaking. On court with the older setter, Shirabu is easily able to keep his expression deadpanned, but being approached by him off of the court must shock even him.

Oikawa rolls his eyes in dismissal, "Not you, I'm talking about Eita. Is he here or not?"

The rest of Shiratorizawa freezes as Oikawa so easily addresses their third year setter-cum-pinch server by his first name, a feat that only few are truly comfortable with doing. "No, he's not," Satori challenges, approaching Oikawa as quickly and menacingly as he can, "What's it to you? You trying to start something funny with him, eh? Eh?"

Oikawa merely laughs off the red-head, not seeming to mind even as the other is standing disturbingly close to his face. "Oh no, nothing of the sort. I was just sort of half expecting him to fly in all of a sudden with some grandeur announcement of his devotion to volleyball. Obviously not, though."

"What the hell are you even talking about?" Satori growls at the setter once again, his already high alert seeming to spike with each word Oikawa spoke. 

The setter hums, "How about this," he smiles once again, "If your team wins against mine then I will tell you exactly where Eita is along with all of the juicy details that may or may not have been left out depending on how much he told you."

Tendou is opening up his mouth to continue his interrogation of Oikawa, but the referee blows on his whistle and Oikawa is suddenly on the other side of the net once again, jogging over to his teammates, one of which is glaring bitterly at him as he approaches him.

Tendou exchanges a look with Ushijima and Reon before they all rush over to where their coach is calling for them. 

Washijou gives them a half-assed excuse for why Semi is gone.

Tendou's gut clenches.

\---

"Okay, Oikawa," Ushijima says the second the game is finished and Shiratorizawa is declared the victor a grueling two hours later. The game seemed to stretch on and on, much longer than it should have, especially with the team's distracted minds. It seemed only by a miracle that they were able to pull through and come out on top, successfully maintaining their title, even though the game wasn't all too threatening towards it. "Where is Eita?"

"Damn, Ushiwaka," Oikawa pants, reaching a hand up to wipe at the sweat pooling at his brow, "Not even going to give me a second to rest, eh? Maybe I should have said I only would have given up the information if we had won, that would have given my dearest teammates much more morale."

"Just tell us," Tendou hisses. At this point his mind has gone through so many scenarios of where his friend could be, some extremely plausible, but all excused for 'kidnapping.' He's much too paranoid and he knows it.

"And tell us how you know him, while you're at it." Shirabu snaps, crossing his arms as if trying to look intimidating. It works though, as his expression sours, and he seems to grow twice his size with the glare he is sending at the older setter. Semi would be pleased to know just how much his underclassman actually did care for him. 

"Setters first," Oikawa teases, giving a small bow. "I know him through his cousin who actually knows my sister from high school. Crazy isn't it? When I first saw him it was sort of just like, 'small world, eh?,' but that's not too important, is it? Okay, well, the question to ask before so simply giving out his location is whether or not the lot of you know about Eita's little fascination."

"Oh God," Yamagata groans, placing his hand on his forehead as he did, "Please don't tell me Semi went to one of those kinky love hotels and asked you to tell us about it. Because, if that's the case, I don't want to know."

Oikawa laughed loudly, "Oh god, no. But that's quite an interesting imagination that you have there. No, he's simply at a concert. You guys act as if I have him tied up somewhere, and not in the kinky way."

"A concert?" Shirabu asks, a tick of annoyance in his voice, "He skipped a game to go to a concert?"

"Not simply go," Oikawa tuts as he slowly begins to make his way towards the locker rooms, the Shiratorizawa players hesitantly following behind him even though their locker room is the other way. "He's playing in it, isn't that exciting!" and their rival player really does seem excited, proud even.

"I didn't know sempai was in a band," Goshiki mumbles, wringing at his jersey nervously as he glances around himself. "That's cool."

"No, he's not part of a band," Oikawa hums as they reach the door leading out of the gymnasium and into the halls of the sports hall. He turns now to face the team, "How about this, you can all meet me outside of your gymnasium in, say, fifteen minutes? Yeah, fifteen minutes, and then I'll take you to where Eita is performing. It's quite beautiful, actually."

Tendou feels an unadulterated urge to fling open the door and wrap his fingers around that Pretty Boy's neck as Oikawa disappears into the locker room. Maybe he'd flay Oikawa first, and then go after Semi.

\---

"Don't forget to ask to test the piano first," his teacher reminds him as the student before him is finishing up their turn, fingers flying through the last few phrases of the Waldscenen. "Run through a few choice measures of each piece, test the pedal, test the last notes." 

Semi nods mechanically as his teacher continues to ramble on, the only break in her composure being the slight twitch of her fingers. Semi can almost imagine they're from her being nervous for him, but by now he's sure that it's simply her want to have one of her student be the best; better than the student's of the teacher across the hall that she keeps side-eyeing angrily. 

He is tired, so unbelievably tired, and if he hadn't had just downed one of the sugariest caffeinated beverages that the café down the street had offered, he's sure that he would have fallen asleep at the piano. The plus side is that he now has his pieces memorized, and if he ever fails to remember a certain phrase or melody, he's good enough at improvisation that he'll likely be able to get through any rough patches. 

A thundering applause echoes from the auditorium and into backstage and suddenly Semi feels as if he's drowning. He hadn't even noticed that the player had finished up their piece, so wrapped up in what he has since began to refer to as last-minute memorization, running through the music once more in his head and trying to get the bits that he still has to think about to play to become simple muscle memory. 

"Good luck," his teacher sniffs curtly before turning away from him and pacing further backstage. He files up to the side of the stage in time to see the last player exit through the same entrance, their face glowing with pride even though they had botched nearly one third of their choice piece. They had obviously favored the judge's choice.

Semi steels himself as the man who is standing at the entrance gestures for Semi to come forward. He does so, giving the man a short bow before rolling his shoulders back and straightening himself out, trying to make himself seem taller, bigger, confident. One month was most certainly not enough time to learn and memorize two new pieces, and he honestly has no idea how he had done it.

He turns to face the judges and the audience, which has quieted sans a few restless shuffles, as if children are in the crowd. But they are, aren't they? Takeru and Tooru had said that they would come, although this seems to be much more than two shuffles. Suddenly the audience stills, as if the shufflers have finally noticed that someone was on stage. The lights are bright, and he can't see much further than the judge's table, anyways.

"I am Semi Eita," Semi announces boldly, "I will be playing the judge's choice of Waldscenen Opus eighty-two by Schumann as well as Beethoven's Sonata Number Thirty." he bows to the crowd before filing over to the piano. A man bustles onto the stage to help accommodate him. He's forgotten to ask to test the piano, and, while his teacher will be mad at him later, it's the same piano that he used last time, and it seems to be the same make as the one from the school. The feeling of playing such a grand piano has yet to leave his fingers. He will be fine.

He rests his hands in his lap once again until the sound of pencils scratching has stopped and he hears the soft clearing of one of the judge's throats. Semi nods, almost to himself, before picking his hands up and setting them down on the piano in a flourish. He rests one beat more, hearing the song in his head, and then brings his fingers down onto the keys.

The song begins slowly enough, the literal translation of the tempo being 'not so fast,' but already it has a wide range of dynamics which Semi brings out to the best of his ability. He's careful with his articulations, knowing perfectly well that he's been docked points for either over-exaggerating them, or simply not playing them in parts that the judge's must find crucial. 

He finishes the first movement, pauses for a beat and plunges himself into the second movement with a dynamic change even more dramatic than that of the first movement before his fingers are flying across the keys and his mouth is shaping something like words to help them do just that. The piece picks ups and Semi grits his teeth as his fingers move at a speed that feels much too fast for his muscles, but is still a beat too slow in his mind. The dynamics feel all over the place, but it was what had been written on his pieces and was therefore what he had practiced. And then they are quieted before he finishes the movement with a loud bang of sound.

He continues on like this, the third movement played slowly and with the ugly seconds that he still wants to pull from the piece, even though this is likely his favorite movement. He fills it with as much emotion as he can.

Fourth movement is played with a bitten lip as he thinks hard of the notes and rhythms. He slips on a note, he corrects it the next time the note is played. 

Fifth movement is quick. Sixth is his other favorite, and he takes care to let it show. Seventh includes pedal, and he left it out in the first phrase. Eighth is in stark contrast to seven, with jumpy notes that he happily leaps into. Ninth is nearly forgotten, but he pulls it off as if it is simply a dynamic. The judges know better.

He finishes. There is silence. Another clearing of the throat. His fingers are back on the keys.

The first movement has always sounded funny in his head, or at least the bit until the first key change, and he feels that he played it off by just a bit before making a comeback in the three-four time, and by the time that he's back in two-four, Semi feels much more comfortable with the piece as well as the bit he still finds funny on his fingers. Keep a false air of confidence if you have to, he reminds himself, you won't mess up, but if you do, make it look like you meant to.

The second movement is much more successful than the first, that is not to say that the first was horrible, just that the second is better. His fingers fly seamlessly across the keys and his mind never gets ahead of them in what to play or when to play it. He feels quite at harmony with this piece, even with its brash dynamics and articulations. Did that have anything to say about him? he didn't know, and was too focused on his music to care.

The beginning of the third movement is slow compared to the second and first, and as he goes through each variation hidden inside of the fourteen minute movement, he feels more and more at ease with what he's playing, an almost-smile playing at his lips as he makes his way across the keyboard. It stays there as the music becomes harsher and louder and stronger and sweat starts to pool at his temples, because those lights are so bright and his fingers are tired and this trill has been going on forever and he's still twisting his hand to-and-fro, but he feels so happy with what he's playing. The music slows. He feels proud of each note as he finishes the song softly nearly forty minutes after he had started it, and an hour since his session had began. 

He lifts his hands off of his keys and his foot off of the pedal as the audience bursts with applause and something that sounds suspiciously like the beginning of a chant before it is silenced almost immediately after it starts. He rises from the piano and smiles out at the crowd, even though he still feels tense as his eyes land on the judges. The lights have been dimmed slightly for a moment, and as he stands from his bow he catches sight of a group of very recognizable people who should most certainly not be here.

His smile falls. He pales. He all but runs off stage. He was dead.

\---

"I--" Ushijima—yes, Ushijima! Oikawa thinks smugly—gapes as Eita finishes his pieces and stands from the bench. Most of his other teammates had long since gotten over their initial shock of Semi walking out onto the stage and over towards the piano. "I didn't know that he played the piano."

"When he first came out," one of the quieter members who Oikawa had since learnt was named Reon speaks through the excited hum of his teammates as they nearly burst into a chant which—Yamagata? yes, Yamagata, Oikawa confirmes—Yamagata quickly quieted. "I didn't think that he would be that good."

Oikawa snorts, his expression unimpressed. "We've already sat through two performances before him, each of them at the level of professionals, and what? You thought Eita would waltz out and plink out 'Mary Had a Little Lamb?'" he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, "I mean, I've heard bits and piece of the songs over and over again, but this is honestly the first time that I've heard both pieces completely strung together." his eyes follow Eita as he nervously bolts from the stage, and he frowns.

"You've heard him play before?" Tendou snarks, emphasizing the 'you' as he leans over in his seat to peer suspiciously at Oikawa. Although they had bonded, per se, in the last few hours that he had spent with the team that he honestly hates—but it's also the team that he loves to taunt, so it was worth it—the red head was still unnecessarily edgy around Oikawa.

"Yes," Oikawa sighs, "We met via the piano--or via cousins and sister or whatever--so yes, I have heard him play. I've also heard him play other pieces, if that sweetens the deal for you, Guess Monster." he jests with a smug smile on his face, although it's more to piss off the other boy than for anything else.

Tendou all but growls before the little ace pushes through him, his bowl cut still a sight to see as he face lights up beneath it. "When can we see Semi?" he asks excitedly.

"After judging, I would think," Tooru shrugs, "I'm not all too sure how these things work, so, my guess is honestly as good as yours."

Tendou opens his mouth to say something, but Reon silences him. "The next act is starting."

\---

If Semi were to put a name to the experience he was going through at the moment, it would most definitely be 'hyperventilating.' Once he had exited the stage and had a quick conference with his teacher, Semi had bolted to the closest bathroom—conveniently located in the hall leading from backstage to the front lobby—and locked himself into the furthest stall from the entrance. God, he was so stupid, why did he even think for a moment that his team wouldn't have found out about this? Furthermore, Tooru was with them. That was doubly bad. Why the hell had he thought that telling Tooru about his concert wouldn't lead to this? That boy was too into creating drama and sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Semi ran a heavy hand through his hair and down his face, his fingers finally coming to a stop covering his nose and mouth. While his hurried breath had calmed down by now, he had no idea how long his whole panic attack had taken. He wasn't someone that was all too prone to such attacks, usually able to quell any panic or anxiety he felt thanks to years of training, but whenever one did hit him it often hit him bad, any pent up emotions easily spilling out. During these attacks time became something of a foreign concept. It was something that he couldn't keep track of and honestly didn't bother to. When he finally came to, he would usually find that either minutes had passed or hours had passed. 

He took one last deep, shaky breath before pulling his hand away from his face and fishing around his tux pants for his phone to find the time. He didn't bother to stand up from where he sat crouched on the bathroom floor, not quite trusting his legs yet. Semi flicked his phone on and was relieved to find that only about thirty minutes had passed since he had bolted from the stage. Or, at least, he assumed it had been about thirty minutes, considering his session had been something like an hour long, and, well, it had begun about an hour and a half ago.

Semi let out a huff of laughter at his reasoning before turning his attention to the notifications lighting up his screen. Lots of texts from Tendou angrily asking him where he was from this morning—about the time that the game had began, Semi guessed. There was a text from his cousin wishing him good luck along with a text from Oikawa telling him that he would be on time to his performance and had even brought a gift along for him. Semi growled. He was going to strangle Oikawa, wring his miserable little throat, and feel absolutely no remorse. 

From: Semi Eita  
To: Oikawa Tooru  
Sent At: XX:XX  
wtf man

Semi shut his phone angrily as he sent the text of, powering it off and sticking it back into his pocket before standing up from the bathroom floor. He smoothed out his wrinkled tux before exiting the stall and making his way to the bathroom sinks. He peered at himself suspiciously, looking for any obvious signs of panic. Other than the faint red ring around the bottom of his eyes, his face was clear and generally quite composed. 

He splashed a handful of water on his face, nonetheless. 

Once he had gotten himself reorganized, he exited the bathroom quickly, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets as he stalked backstage yet again. He'd rather be out in the nearly empty lobby at the moment, instead of being stuck in this stuffy room, but if he did that he ran the risk of bumping into someone from his team, even if Oikawa had taken it upon himself to inform his teammates of proper concert etiquette.

Semi snorted slightly at this, amused by even the thought of his teammates decked out in stuffy, rented tuxes such as his own, hair slicked back and noses held high in a pompous fashion that could rival any king's. Of course, he had seen the lot of them briefly when the audience lit up slightly, and it looked as if they were all decked out in their casual weekend attire, some of them still with sweat sticking their hair to their forehead. They all looked shocked, to say the least. Or, at least, the faces that he had seen looked shocked. 

"Hi there," a voice snapped Semi from his reverie, making him jump as he turned to face the boy who had spoken. Dark, messy brown hair was caked in gel, as if someone had tried to tame it only to give up half way and not bother to wash out their previous attempts. Excited green-brown eyes locked onto his own and an almost cat like smile split open the boy's face. "You're Semi Eita, aren't you?"

Semi's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yes. And who are you?"

The boy laughed lightly, and he waved one of his hands almost dismissively, a move that made no sense seeing as the boy still went on to answer Semi's question. "Moniwa Kaname," he introduces himself with a small smile, "I am--well, was now, I suppose--the captain of Date Tech volleyball club."

Semi's face lights up with recognition. They hadn't played the team this year, but they had in years prior, and yet Semi didn't recognize this Moniwa character at all. "The school with the catchy chant, yeah," Semi supplies in attempt to create conversation, "Why are you here?"

Moniwa laughs loudly before reaching up to cover his mouth with an embarrassed look on his face. He glances around the two of them as if to make sure that no one had heard before fixing Semi with an apologetic smile. "Yes, that's the school. I'm here because I play the piano, same as you."

He raises an eyebrow, and Moniwa feels the need the expand upon his words. "I was one of the first to play, you were probably sleeping. You were when I went out there." another laugh, this one lighter than the last.

"Oh," Semi says intelligently before smiling sheepishly down at the boy. He's only shorter than him by a few centimeters, but he oddly enough feels proud of those few centimeters. "Sorry about that. What did you play?"

"Other than the assigned piece?" Moniwa jokes, a sly smile bursting on his face. This boy is just full of smiles, Semi notes almost disdainfully. At least he's nice, otherwise his smiley appearance would be all for naught. "I played the Douze Études by Alkan, except I lowered it down to only about 'Sept Études,'" Moniwa laughs once again, a triumphant look on his face as he speaks. "Almost ten years of intense French classes have all led me up to this point in my life."

Semi laughs now, his shoulders shaking as he does. Just one thought back onto the shorter's proud expression is enough to set Semi off into another round of loud giggling. "I'm sorry," he apologizes after another moment. He catches himself and straightens out, smiling softly at Moniwa. "I'm also sorry that I missed it."

"Oh, everyone is," Moniwa reassures, waving his hands dismissively, "Including some of the judges."

"The judges? Really."

"Yep. That creepy looking man on the far left--you saw him, right? so creepy--was fast asleep when I performed," the Date Tech captain—or was it ex-captain?—sighed, "I went way overboard with my dynamics just to try to wake him up, but does it work? Nope, all I get is some docked points that totally wouldn't have been a problem if that man had simply done his job." he frowns, and it looks exceptionally cute, like the man is an angry kitten.

Semi hums and is silent for a moment, trying to find what to say. It's a comfortable silence, however, but that is soon broken by another hearty round of applause from the audience as well as the stable pace of the player walking off of the stage. As he passes by the two of them, he shoots Semi a concerned look—they must have performed together in the past—which he quickly waves off. He's glad that Moniwa hadn't asked about his storming off of the stage. Or perhaps the boy hadn't noticed it.

He's brought back as Moniwa squeals excitedly. "I've got to go, Semi, but good luck!" he smiles brightly before darting off down the hall that leads to the lobby and all but bouncing out of the door. Semi bites back a smile before turning to face the stage. He can't see the audience, and everything is sideways, but the man with the velvety voice has returned, and he is speaking eagerly to the audience. Something about the piano and the students and taking time out of your busy schedules to enjoy the arts.

Semi swallows thickly and clenches his fingers against his palms. The players that swarm around him to exit the backstage or get closer to the man on the stage must think that it's nerves over his performance. Some of them whisper reassurance to him, telling him that they thought it was good, while others ask each other why he was so nervous, that he did better than them, after all. 

The man with the velvety voice dismisses the audience, and it's the player's queue to leave backstage and file into the lobby until the judging is done. 

Semi can't feel his fingers.

\---

"That was so long," Tendou drawls out, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his neck around to loosen up his muscles. "I thought I was going to die before that thing ended." 

Goshiki nods in agreement as he bounds eagerly from the aisle, towing an annoyed Shirabu behind him thanks to some promise of vending machine snacks if he promised to shut up during the last performance. Tendou glances over at Oikawa, who is hurriedly typing at his phone, as he had been for nearly the past twenty minutes or so. His face looks worried, and Tendou isn't sure whether to feel anxious over the expression or to brush it off as nothing, simply Oikawa being Oikawa.

"Who are you texting?" Ushijima asks for him, saving Tendou the trouble of having to make conversation with Oikawa. He really doesn't like that kid. He feels too slimy, like a snake or a snail or a frog. 

"None of your business, Ushiwaka," Oikawa snaps, not bothering to add the endearing, but oddly offensive when coming from his mouth, -chan suffix, favoring typing out another desperate message and sending it off to whoever he's conversing with. Oikawa sighs then, bringing a hand up to run it tiredly through his thick hair. "Okay, maybe it is."

The bulk of the Shiratorizawa team that hasn't already bound out of the auditorium in search of food or a bathroom freezes as Oikawa's statement. Tendou's eyebrows are nearly touching his hairline as he and the others turn to face the Aoba Jousai player. "What?" Tendou squawks intelligently, eyes now blown wide as well as he fully realizes the magnitude of what the other had just said.

"You heard me," Oikawa rolls his eyes, "Eita texted me like twenty minutes ago and I haven't been able to get ahold of him since."

"What did he say?" Reon asks smoothly, slowly ushering their stand-still group down the aisle and out of the auditorium into the lobby now thrumming with life. Tendou glances around himself, searching desperately for Semi only to come up short on his hunt.

"Okay, it's literally just 'w-t-f man.'" Oikawa shrugs a little, focusing his attention back on his phone as he shoots off yet another message at lightning speeds. "And at first I was like, 'well w-t-f to you too, man,' but now he hasn't replied, and he usually does if I spam him because he's like 'ever heard of limited data,' or whatever, but now it's like, you know, radio silence."

"Why would he say 'what the fuck, man' anyways?" Yamagata asks, draping himself across Reon with a confused look on his face.

"Well, I mean, like, I can definitely think of a few reasons, if that's what you're asking," Oikawa says guiltily. He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, looking anywhere but the team posed in front of him.

"And those are," Kawanishi prompts slowly, gesturing vaguely to allow Oikawa to fill in the blanks.

"Number one on the list is definitely you guys."

Tendou's brow furrows, "Semi said 'what the fuck' because of…" he pauses, confused, before continuing, "His teammates?"

"Yes and no," Oikawa answers vaguely, "I mean, like, you weren't technically supposed to be here."

"Explain." Ushijima states firmly. Oikawa rolls his eyes at the taller's commanding voice.

"Basically, Eita didn't want you guys to know about his piano career, which is a little stupid, if you ask me. I mean, I asked him about it a few times, but there's only so many times you can ask a guy something before he just sort of snaps or something, so I obviously gave up asking. I think that the sort of synopsis of his explanations was that he goes to this powerhouse school that's, like, famous for volleyball, I mean, you guys obviously know that, but whatever. He said that you all are just so devoted to the sport that he felt that he couldn't have this other interest. Like, he puts piano pretty high above volleyball, and so he's sort of like, 'if they find out that I can't give my all to volleyball because I already give my all to something else, then they'll hate me,' which is like, totally lame." Oikawa shrugs, speaking in a falsetto when imitating Semi, "You've all proven him wrong by not just up and leaving as soon as he finished his pieces, but that guy is hella superstitious."

"Wait," Tendou stops Oikawa from speaking any more and turns to his teammates, "Does that mean that those papers he had in his bag were his."

Kawanishi rolls his eyes, "Tendou, we all figured that out as soon as Semi stepped onto the stage."

"Well I didn't," Tendou huffs, angrily.

"That's because you're stupid, Satori," Yamagata teases, shuffling over to tousle Tendou's thick red hair. 

"Anyways," Oikawa speaks up again, drawing everyone's attention back to him, "I've got to go find Eita and tell him that I'm sorry, but you guys should probably reassure him that you love him or whatever, or else he'll think that you hate him or something stupid like that."

He nods once, more to himself than to the Shiratorizawa group before turning around and marching off into the crowd.

"Well then," Yamagata says, sucking in a breath from between his teeth, "Guess we've got out mission. Let's go grab Shirabu and Goshiki and get searching."

The rest of the team hums in agreement and easily begin to march through the lobby.

\---

Semi takes a deep breath as he exits out from backstage and into the bustling lobby. He's nearly struck with how busy it is, and his eyes nervously fly around trying to catch sight of one of his teammates. He lets the breath out when he can't find any familiar mops of hair and he can feel himself slowly relax. Semi glances around himself, playing with the sleeves of his tux as he now tries to find some sort of friendly acquaintance he can chat with to seem occupied and nonchalant if his teammates happen to find him.

He briefly catches sight of Moniwa, but he is quickly swept off by a group of people dressed in semi-formal attire but coated in jackets all sporting the same colors who Semi assumes to be his team. Moniwa did say he played volleyball, after all. He smiles bitterly at the sight, but shakes his head as he once again adjusts his tux and plunges into the crowd.

He's back into the regular routine of exchanging short pleasantries with people he doesn't know, a superficial smile plastered on his face as he weaves through the river of players and attendants alike. In fact, as he continues to make his way through the crowd without confrontation via teammates, Semi almost begins to relax, wondering for a moment whether or not he had really seen his team gathered in the seats of the auditorium. For all he knew the people he had seen could have been Moniwa's teammates from Date Tech, or just random people that his superstitious mind immediately matched to the Shiratorizawa team.

This quick rush of realization washes over him like a river before it freezes once again at the sight of a very familiar mess of red hair sticking out among the packed room. Semi sucks in a sharp breath from between his teeth and quickly turns so that he's facing away from Tendou as the other third year seems to stalk through the sea of people.

He's looking for me, a sharp thought quickly hits him, and Semi takes care to hurry along, scurrying about and trying to blend in with the other students rushing about to meet with friends or family or teachers in excitement. Although there didn't seem to be that many players that had played today, the lobby is especially thick today, making it easy to disappear into the crowd and flow eagerly with it.

Semi parts from the lobby after a while longer, now turning to rush down a small hallway that led to a few practice rooms and offices. He breathes greedily and rolls up his sleeves as he reaches a hand up to run through his hair. His brow seems to be beaded with sweat from simply running through a crowd that tightly packed with bodies all dressed in clothes that are both stuffy and thick.

"There you are," a teasing voice makes the boy jump as he swings around to face one Oikawa Tooru who is smiling over at him almost shyly as he slowly approaches him from down the hall as if Semi were a wild animal, "God, I've been looking everywhere for you. Well, we have, but I'm the most important so it's only me that matters." Tooru snorts as he reaches Semi, stopping just in front of him to simply observe him.

"Fuck off, man," Semi sneers half-heartedly, too busy focusing on Oikawa's almost apologetic face to notice the soft thunk of feet running down the hallway towards where he and Oikawa are standing. "Seriously, though. What the actual fuck was that?"

"Was what?" Oikawa asks innocently which only serves to make Semi's glare grow.

"You know perfectly well what it was, Tooru," he snips, rolling his eyes at the other, "Why the hell did you bring them here?"

"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that, I'm afraid." Oikawa sings.

"And I'm afraid I will literally have to wring your neck," Semi quips once again, "The one thing that I don't want you to do, and you do it! I don't know why I didn't expect this, especially with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oikawa frowns, crossing his arms, "Plus, I don't even understand why you didn't just tell your teammates, and therefore I don't have to act by your rules."

"It means that you're too petty for your own good!" Semi exclaims, watching the other's frown deepen but seeing no actual signs of hurt. He takes this as a good sign and decides to continue, "And I've told you multiple times why I would rather my teammates didn't know of my playing the piano."

"No, you didn't," Oikawa counters, now setting his hands on his hips and looking down at Semi as if he's trying to intimidate him. "You gave me some half-assed reason that made next to no sense whatsoever, thank you very much. If you want me to ever believe you on this stuff, maybe you should give me a real answer to what the hell is going on with you and your team."

Semi sighs tiredly, the exhaustion of the day finally hitting him full force. He runs his hand through his pale locks once again, avoiding Oikawa's eyes in favor of staring down at the floor of the hallway. "Nothing is going on between me and the team," Semi admits quietly after a moment, "It's honestly just me."

"Elaborate," Oikawa commands.

"I don't know," Semi elegantly puts, waving his hands about slightly as if trying to catch the right words to say, "By now you probably know that I'm just one big nervous wreck, and even thinking about telling the team has been stressful as fuck," Semi breathes once again and starts up before Oikawa can interrupt him, "It's as I said, I'm nervous they'll--well, reject sounds a bit strong, but yeah. I'm afraid they'll reject me," another shrug,"I don't know. I'm not a regular after all, so why should it matter? But I got into that school because of volleyball. Not because of my academics, not because of the piano, because of volleyball, a sport that I'm not even a starting player in. My team probably isn't like yours, Tooru. I've seen how Aobajousai plays, how, even though you're all playing your hardest and doing your best, not all of your players are super devoted with going on with volleyball into university or whatever. I don't know, maybe that's wrong, but I feel that everyone on my team is intent on winning, on making it far in the sport, on putting their one hundred percent into the sport one hundred percent of the time.

"I can't do that," he admits, "In junior high and even my first year of high school I had big dreams for myself, I guess. I expected to play professionally, to get scouted early and be allowed to skip my final years of schooling, childish things, you know? None of that would ever happen, even if I was still a regular. And then the better setter came along, and I was forced to realize that, wow, I'm probably not going to be able to get back into a game for a while, and I respected that. I still do. I respect Shirabu, I respect his hard work, I respect his talent, but it was sort of a punch to the gut at the time. I finally realized that my career probably wasn't going to be in volleyball, likely not even sports. I felt like I lost that one trait that I had matched with Shiratorizawa and it's players. My school. My teammates. I just wasn't part of the group anymore. 

"And I just turned to the piano. I was already playing it at a really high level at the time, so I began to invest myself into it fully, and through this I lost some of the passion that I once held for volleyball. That just threw me off, you know? Volleyball had been my life for the longest time, but so had piano, and while I once was all over the former, I was suddenly putting emphasis on the latter. Paired with me no longer feeling encouraged to put my one hundred percent into volleyball, it was sort of hard for me to bring the whole thing up with my teammates. I mean, eventually my one hundred percent was on the piano, and volleyball had a lesser emphasis in my life. The 'one hundred percent' that I put into volleyball isn't anywhere near the one hundred percent I put into the piano and my music. This made, and still does, me sort of feel like I was betraying my teammates, I guess. That one hundred percent that each of them puts into volleyball is huge compared to the hundred percent that I put into it," Semi shrugs, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts once again, "This probably doesn't make any sense, but it did in my head."

"So, what?" Oikawa asks, letting a moment of silence filter between the two, "You didn't tell your teammates about your absolutely fabulous and extremely advanced talent because you were scared that they wouldn't support you in it just because you were more invested in it then you were in a high school sport?"

"Well when you put it that way," Semi huffs, crossing his arms and turning away from Oikawa, suddenly embarrassed, "It just sounds stupid."

"Well, your reasoning is pretty stupid," a new voice joined their conversation and as Semi leans to look behind Oikawa he catches sight of the entirety of his team. He pales as Tendou steps forward from the group and approaches the two of them, eyes locked on Semi. "You still play volleyball, don't you? We're still your friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Goshiki cheers in agreement, jumping after Tendou, the rest of the team slowly following after him, "You being able to play is so cool! I don't even know how to play any of those little ditties that, like, everyone knows."

"Even if the one hundred percent that you put into volleyball isn't the same as the one hundred percent that you put into piano," Ushijima adds awkwardly, choosing his words carefully, "It's still one hundred percent. What does it matter to what intensity this pressure is applied? All that matters is that your applying."

Semi blinked owlishly at Ushijima. Although he was not entirely sure what Ushijima had said it still served to make a heat blossom in his chest. "Well," he swallows, "Now I really feel stupid."

"As you should," Shirabu sniffs, crossing his arms, but skillfully avoiding eye contact with Semi. He glances at Yamagata in confusion. The third year smirks.

"He's just embarrassed by what you said about him," Yamagata teases at the both of them, nudging Shirabu whose face bursts with color once again. Semi's does too as he realizes that Shirabu had heard what he had to say about the younger. 

"Let's get back to the lobby," Reon offers a moment later, sending Semi a soft smile that had since been dubbed a 'Reon Smile' specifically for it's ability to make the heart of even the toughest man flutter.

"Yes," Oikawa claps, "Let's! You can all have your sappy team bonding love fest some other time. For now I want to find out how you did, Ei-chan, and then get some ice cream or something. Maybe I'll invite the entirety of my team over to celebrate. I'm sure that they're still around somewhere."

Semi laughs as he accepts Oikawa's offer, but not before pulling him into a short side hug, whispering a quiet 'sorry' into his ear as he did. Oikawa smiles back at him and politely turns away as Semi sappily pulls each of his teammates into hugs of their own. He had never seen Shirabu look more appalled. 

"Now," he leads, "Let's go!"

\---

He made it to the next round, but he wasn't sure if the blossom of happiness in his chest was due to that or to his team, surrounding him with loud laughter and pats on the back.

He was getting too sappy for his own good.

**Author's Note:**

> lmaoo, based off of an experience when i was on a team nd was like 'hey bitches i got a concert to play at so i cant make it to a game' and one chick was like 'maybe if u put as much effort into this then ud be good' and i was like dam...u rite
> 
> Anywho, everyone is friends and I love Shiratorizawa a lot, pls yell with me bout them i love
> 
> also, like, moniwas there 4 the symbolism,,ye,a,jh,,,,,i lie hes there bc i love him ok bye


End file.
